


neverland with you

by vindicatedtruth (behindtintedglass)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 18:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12636591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/behindtintedglass/pseuds/vindicatedtruth
Summary: With you, I feel like I will never die.Fifty tales. One destiny.





	neverland with you

**Author's Note:**

> Based on LJ's [1sentence challenge table; theme set Alpha](http://1sentenceorder.livejournal.com/1531.html).

 

 

**one: comfort**

 

He’s scared, but he can’t bring himself to regret his inevitable death, not when in these last few moments, despite having a glass door separating the touch of their hands, he is finally able to make Spock understand that he matters, above all, to _Jim._

 

* * *

 

**two: kiss**

 

“Like this,” Jim murmurs as he aligns their index and middle fingers together: “I want to kiss you both ways,” and captures Spock’s lips with his own.

 

* * *

 

**three: soft**

 

Jim curls his hand protectively over Spock’s side, where his Vulcan heart beats reassuringly beneath Jim’s palm; only in sleep do the rigid lines of duty melt away, and Jim selfishly treasures how he’s the only who gets to see Spock like this: soft, vulnerable, trusting.

 

* * *

 

**four: pain**

 

Too often Spock chooses to be a hero—it is only logical, Jim knows, to prioritise the needs of the many over the needs of the few—but Jim doesn’t _want_ Spock to be a hero, because like his father, all heroes _leave_ him.

 

* * *

 

**five: potatoes**

 

Jim discovers that potatoes are the closest approximation to plomeek in taste and in substance, so he diligently learns how to cultivate and later cook them as his husband’s (amusingly illogical) favourite comfort food.

 

* * *

 

**six: rain**

 

The one thing Spock hates about life on Earth is the cold, wet weather, yet he willingly tolerates it, for the one thing he can’t live without is the smile that lights up Jim’s face when he spreads his arms wide, face upturned to the sky, welcoming the rain.

 

* * *

 

**seven: chocolate**

 

Intoxication is illogical to Spock, much less for _celebration_ , so it fills Jim with amused fondness when Spock mixes a drink of chocolate liquor for their anniversary, to ensure that they are on even ground in being equally drunk.

 

* * *

 

**eight: happiness**

 

He can never undergo the _kolinahr_ now, not when it means losing this illogical, exhilarating _joy_ whenever the Captain turns to smile at him, as if everything in the universe is in its rightful place when they stand side by side on the bridge like this, to boldly go— _together_ —where no one has gone before.

 

* * *

 

**nine: telephone**

 

Winona smiles at Spock as Jim excitedly introduces him through the video call; she watches the way her son is absolutely _glowing,_ and hopes Spock will come to see that Jim is every bit his father’s son in this: when Kirks love, it’s all or nothing, once in a lifetime, and _forever._

 

* * *

 

**ten: ears**

 

Jim cradles their newborn daughter in his arms, heart swelling and vision blurring as he gingerly caresses the tenderly pointed tips of her ears: the undeniable evidence that this miracle of life is one he created with Spock.

 

* * *

 

**eleven: name**

 

Jim has always craved everything about Spock, jealously hoarding what he can about him; he diligently practices everyday so that there will be no doubt that Spock is _his_ when he becomes the only human capable of perfectly pronouncing Spock’s whole name.

 

* * *

 

**twelve: sensual**

 

It is decidedly unfair, Spock muses wistfully, for Captain James T. Kirk to not only be aesthetically pleasing and unfailingly compassionate, but to also possess a superior intellect; it’s as if the universe has conspired to make it impossible for Spock to _not_ fall in love with a singular man of such unparalleled intellectual sensuality.

 

* * *

 

**thirteen: death**

 

Khan’s blood is now coursing through Jim’s veins, and Spock is there when Jim gasps his first breath of resurrection; a Captain cannot cheat death, but destiny says nothing about his Commander achieving it for him.

 

* * *

 

**fourteen: sex**

 

Making Spock lose control seems to be Jim’s singular talent: emotionally provoking him on the bridge to the point that Spock almost _killed_ him; making him scream in anguish and anger the day Jim _actually_ died and driving Spock to the savagery of breaking Khan’s bones; and now, this: “If you want me, Spock, come and _claim_ me.”

 

* * *

 

**fifteen: touch**

 

“Don’t take it away from me,” Jim shudders as Spock touches his psi-points; he hesitates, aching and _grieving_ at the pain he sees and feels in Jim’s mind; Jim fists the fabric of Spock’s uniform and fiercely whispers: “Don’t take the memories from me—they all led me to _you._ ”

 

* * *

 

**sixteen: weakness**

 

It is not arrogant pride, but rather the desperate desire to prove himself worthy to Spock; it is not a lack of self worth, but rather the illogical fear that he may not be able to provide Jim the happiness he deserves.

 

* * *

 

**seventeen: tears**

 

“ _Forgive me, emotional transference is an effect of the mind meld_ ,” murmurs Spock of the future, the one who is, incredibly, to be his friend, and against all odds, this is how it begins: with Jim crying for him, because of him, _with_ him.

 

* * *

 

**eighteen: speed**

 

Jim cranks up the gas on the Chevy Corvette as he determinedly races towards the cliff—people can’t keep leaving him if he’s the one who leaves them first—yet just before the car falls over the edge, he is suddenly overcome with a startling vision of a pale young boy with dark hair, slanted eyebrows, pointed ears, and extremely lonely eyes, being told that he has no place in the universe, and Jim screams _No!_ as he jumps out of the car, his heart pounding with the inexplicable feeling that there is someone out there whom he should never leave behind. 

 

* * *

 

**nineteen: wind**

 

Jim has always been fire, but Spock is his wind: there to extinguish his dangerous bursts, but also to enflame the brightest of his light.

 

* * *

 

**twenty: freedom**

 

On Vulcan, he is a half-breed abomination; on Earth, he is an ostracised loner; here on the Enterprise, Spock is not anymore defined by his ancestry or his physiology, but by his talents and accomplishments, and above all, by the home he has built with his Captain, and the family they have in their crew. 

 

* * *

 

**twenty-one: life**

 

Jim is glowing as he hums a soft lullaby under his breath, gently rocking their newborn daughter to sleep; Spock watches him and wonders if once upon a time, Sarek has looked at him like that too, joy and contentment radiating in waves at the irrefutable proof that a love and a shared life between a human and a Vulcan is possible.

 

* * *

 

**twenty-two: jealousy**

 

Spock aches at the ephemerality of life, magnified by the briefness of human life, in particular, and never has it seemed more apparent than this innocent, blameless jealousy: Dr. McCoy will have shared a greater number of years with Jim, than the Captain ever will with _him._

 

* * *

 

**twenty-three: hands**

 

For Spock, it’s almost akin to exhibitionism, and that’s precisely why Jim sits next to him on these boring meetings: for the perverse thrill of making out with his very private Vulcan lover through their hands beneath the table.

 

* * *

 

**twenty-four: taste**

 

_T’hy’la,_ Jim samples the word on his tongue, relishing at how it tastes so right; _friend, brother, lover_ , but most importantly: _mine, completely, always._

 

* * *

 

**twenty-five: devotion**

 

A different dimension, a different time, a different place, a different reality, and yet his vow is still the same, to all incarnations of James T. Kirk in all the multiverses of the universe, in life and in death and in resurrection: “I have been—and always shall be—your friend.”

 

* * *

 

**twenty-six: forever**

 

_If there’s any true logic to the universe,_ the Jim of another time smirks on the holo-emitter, _we’ll end up on the bridge again someday;_ a supernova, a black hole, a planet’s destruction, a species’ almost extinction, and meeting his older self one hundred and twenty-nine years into the future, and Spock closes his fingers on the pendant, wondering—grudgingly amused—at how even in this, his Captain is once again _right._

 

* * *

 

**twenty-seven: blood**

 

Jim is fascinated to discover that there are many different shades of green, and he is determined to catalogue and memorise every single one as he licks and bites at every inch of that Vulcan skin, writhing and flushing beneath him.

 

* * *

 

**twenty-eight: sickness**

 

Jim tries, valiantly, to be happy for Spock, but Jim realises that he’s not as good of a man as he wants to be, not when this sickening sensation burns him from the inside out; he looks at T’Pring, at everything she is and everything she _can_ be for Spock, and thinks, remorselessly: _it should be me._

 

* * *

 

**twenty-nine: melody**

 

Never again will Jim believe that there is no art in Vulcan blood as he listens to Spock play the Vulcan lyre; there is poetry in science as there is beauty behind logic, for he knows, firsthand, that there is nothing stronger than Vulcan will in a very human love.

 

* * *

 

**thirty: star**

 

“Second star to the right, and straight on ’til morning,” Jim jokingly answers when Spock asks where they are headed next; “Neverland it is, Captain,” Spock acknowledges out loud, to the surprise of everyone on the bridge, and through his mental link with Jim, he tenderly adds: _with you, I feel like I will never die._

 

* * *

 

**thirty-one: home**

 

He has never felt quite at ease on Vulcan nor on Earth, and even New Vulcan is a place he is hesitant to call home; _“What will I do without you, Spock—”_ and he knows, for certain, where he truly belongs. 

 

* * *

 

**thirty-two: confusion**

 

_Not his ability to lead_ , Jim thinks frantically as Spock barely blinks at Jim’s attempt at insubordination; _nor his unshakable bravery,_ Jim shakily steps forward as Spock narrows his eyes when Jim attempts to incite fear; Jim chokes beneath Spock’s death grip as he realises this, _this_ is what Spock will never accept: questioning his capability to _love._

 

* * *

 

**thirty-three: fear**

 

Spock watches his Captain walk away in frustration when he fails to communicate the depth of how much he will _despair_ Jim’s absence (“ _I will miss you too”_ is not accurate, for how do you miss the gravity that keeps you from losing your place in the universe); too often Spock has feared being too human that it is only with his Captain that he fears he will never be human enough.

 

* * *

 

**thirty-four: lightning/thunder**

 

A flash between steely gazes, the reverberating echoes of their fierce banter, and this is their beginning: the _Kobayashi Maru_ , an academic tribunal, and the stormy first meeting of a friendship that will define the universe.

 

* * *

 

**thirty-five: bonds**

 

“Captain,” breathes his First Officer; _Jim_ , caresses the bond through the mind meld; _taluhk nash-veh k’dular t’hyl’a, ashayam,_ calls the ancient language to his _katra_ ; the delicious tight heat encasing his throbbing cock making him moan in ecstasy; he gives himself to Spock completely, knowing he belongs to no other: mind, heart, body, and soul.

 

* * *

 

**thirty-six: market**

 

On opposite sides of the market, they unknowingly purchase similar gifts: “ _I-chaya_ ,” Jim smiles as he picks up a figurine of a sehlat; “ _Butler_ ,” Spock murmurs as he cradles a Great Dane plushie.

 

* * *

 

**thirty-seven: technology**

 

It’s the 24th century and the universe has finally invented teleportation; yet no amount of Scotty’s ingenious formulas nor Chekov’s instinctive projections will ever be enough for the technology he truly needs: he _sprints_ from the bridge to the transporter, deaf to the reports that the volcano has been rendered inert, his thoughts a frantic loop of a prayer to gods he hopes truly exist: _please be there, Spock, please don’t be dead, please, please don’t leave me._

 

 

* * *

 

**thirty-eight: gift**

 

“You are the only half-human, half-Vulcan in the universe,” Jim murmurs, cupping Spock’s face, “and that makes you precious to me”; Spock carefully extricates Jim’s hands, his own thumbs rubbing comfortingly over his husband’s knuckles, and nervously asks, “Will you deem it any less precious if we make a second one—together?”

 

* * *

 

**thirty-nine: smile**

 

It is a remarkable sight to see a very human smile on a very Vulcan face; Sarek strokes his granddaughter’s baby-soft cheek and marvels at the possibility of a child that will adhere to Surak’s teachings, but with the courage, willpower, and spirit of a Kirk.

 

* * *

 

**forty: innocence**

 

“Should you desire, I can provide character references,” Spock offers stiffly, almost nervously; Jim stifles a smirk and vows never to reveal the staggering number of applicants he outright rejected as he tells the only candidate he has ever considered: “It would be my honour, Commander.”

 

* * *

 

**forty-one: completion**

 

In many ways they are parallel opposites: Jim is idolised by his people but shunned by his family, whereas Spock is cherished by his family but disparaged by his people; they have both lost the opposite half of their parentage who has indirectly caused their life’s grief (Jim living in his father’s heroic shadow, Spock’s half-human existence an anathema in Vulcan society); yet this is, remarkably, what makes them perfect for filling the other’s emptiness: two lonely halves who have finally become whole in the acceptance they have found in each other.

 

* * *

 

**forty-two: clouds**

 

“We’ve got no ship, no crew, not the best odds,” Jim says quietly, and that is a pain Spock cannot bear, more devastating than the mortal wound close to his Vulcan heart; he refuses to let those sky blue eyes, clearer and brighter than a summer day on Earth, be clouded with the grief of losing one’s home and one’s family— _again_ —and with the kind of illogical blind faith only Jim Kirk can inspire, Spock declares: “We will do as we always have, Jim: we will find hope in the impossible.”

 

* * *

 

**forty-three: sky**

 

They spend shore leave in Iowa, where Jim teaches him the constellations as seen on Earth, and while Spock fails to discern the illogical shapes the stars make in the sky, his attention is more arrested by the extraordinary man lying beside him on the cornfields as he comes to a logical conclusion: _I am in love with thee, James T. Kirk, and you are the true Perseus of the universe._

 

* * *

 

**forty-four: heaven**

 

It is illogical, Spock thinks, for sentient beings to conceptualise religion as their source of comfort amidst the uncertainty of death, and therefore it is unlikely that heaven exists—not when paradise can already be achieved in this lifetime with Jim.

 

* * *

 

**forty-five: hell**

 

Spock’s hand is frozen in midair, reaching out for a mother whom he will never hold again, and Jim looks away, knowing he will forever bear this guilt; he has failed Spock a thousand times over, and Jim swears that till his last breath, he will never let any planet be destroyed ever again.

 

* * *

 

**forty-six: sun**

 

Daylight haloes golden hair like a god of legend, and Spock thinks: _you give life to everything in your orbit, and I am honoured to circle around you._

 

* * *

 

**forty-seven: moon**

 

He runs his fingers through perfectly symmetrical, inky black hair, and Jim thinks: _in my darkest hours, you remain my constant, guiding light._

 

* * *

 

**forty-eight: waves**

 

The first wave, the sacrifice of his father; the second, the detachment of his mother; the third, the abuse of his uncle; the fourth, the loss of his brother and his family; the fifth and most devastating, the genocide on Tarsus IV; Jim wakes from his nightmares with a choked gasp, and Spock gathers him close with a whispered vow:  “As long as I draw breath, Jim, you will never be alone again.”

 

* * *

 

**forty-nine: hair**

 

“Finally, you’re an old man too,” Jim grins as he plucks the first grey strand from Spock’s hair; he wraps his arms around his husband and presses his own fully white crown of hair against Spock’s back, squeezing his eyes shut amidst the sudden pinprick of tears: _this way, I don’t feel like I’m leaving you too soon._

 

* * *

 

**fifty: supernova**

 

“ _For you are stardust, and to stardust you shall return,_ ” Spock recites as he presses a trembling kiss to Jim’s wrinkled brow; “ _I’ll find you_ ,” Jim rasps against Spock’s neck, “ _I will always find my way back to you”_ ; as Jim breathes his last, elsewhere in the universe, aboard the U.S.S. _Kelvin’s_ medical shuttle no. 37, a baby cries his first.

 

 

 


End file.
